


the word of your body (is not speaking my language)

by orphan_account



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Communication Failure, Drunk Sex, M/M, Overstimulation, Superpowered Sex is Overrated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:51:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5334800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme prompt: When Matt and Foggy finally get together, Foggy assumes that Matt's enhanced senses mean that sex must be even more awesome. Wrong. It's the exact opposite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> cw: drunk sex, (non sexual) vomit
> 
> Title is a tongue in cheek reference to Spring Awakening.

The first time Matt makes Foggy cum, kisses heady and deep and full of tongue, he's drunker than he's been in a really long time. They've been talking for hours, descending into nonsense as the whiskey overwhelms them. Foggy leans into his shoulder and cards his fingers through Matt's hair. And then - well, things get a little out of hand.   
  
The alcohol blurs and dulls his senses and he forgets that sex is usually disgusting. Instead, he pushes Foggy to the ground, and sucks a hickey into his neck. Foggy gasps, and the room begins to smell like sex. Sense of smell wonderfully dulled, Matt revels in it. He thrusts against Foggy within an inch of his life, all while kissing his face, his neck, and the hollow of his throat. His hands slide under Foggy's shirt, but he doesn't remove it. Not that he doesn't want to, not at all. It's just - Foggy cums and cums quickly, panting as though he's just run a marathon and fingers squeezing Matt's arms so tight that he can feel the small bruises they are leaving.  
  
When the scent of semen hits the air, Matt suddenly remembers why he shouldn't have allowed this to get out of hand. It's strong and distinctive and, ok, downright disgusting. He kisses Foggy chastely, and sits up on his knees, willing his face into a neutral expression. Foggy pushes himself up onto his elbows. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand as his heart rate slows back to his baseline.   
  
"I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to um - I just got -"  
  
"It's ok, Foggy." He squeezes Foggy's hand, even though he honestly wants to walk away. The smell is starting to make him nauseous, and the conversation he knew was about to happen wasn't making him feel any better.  
  
"Do you want me to?"   
  
There it is. "No. I. . .no. Ah. . .too much whiskey."  
  
Foggy giggles. "Whiskey dick! Lushes, the both of us."  
  
Matt laughs weakly in response. "Yea. Yep."  
  
Hopefully in the morning they'll both be so hungover that they'll barely remember anything happened at all.  
  
***  
  
Three days after the Incident, Matt and Foggy are alone together again in his apartment. Matt's turned on one of his favorite records (something sweet - Chopin nocturne compilation) and they're kissing sweetly upright on his couch. He's blocking Foggy from putting his tongue in his mouth at every turn, stroking his hair, his face, and the bare skin peeking out from under his shirt to distract him.   
  
Truth be told, Matt thinks kissing is pretty gross, but he loves the gentle way Foggy touches him and the soft sounds he makes, the quiet 'I love you' and 'you're so handsome' and 'God, Matt, you don't even know what you do to me.'   
  
Which, incidentally, is exactly what Foggy says right as he tries to unbutton Matt's jeans. The scent of his arousal, so faint up until now, increases dramatically. Matt pushes Foggy's hand away, something he's never had to do before. Foggy has always been a perfect gentleman but now. . .  
  
Well, dammit, now Matt has set a precedent. Foggy pulls away.  
  
"Oh, man. Sorry. Was that out of line? I just thought because of the other night. . ."  
  
Matt resists burying his entire face in his hands to cover up the heat blossoming on his cheeks. He sighs.  
  
"It's ok. The other night I was really drunk, you were really drunk. . .it happens. I'm just not ready for this. . ."  _Ever_. ". . .yet"  
  
Foggy touches his face gently. "That's alright. We can take it slow." He kisses Matt so sweetly that Matt can't help but sigh into his mouth. "We have all the time in the world."


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Foggy and Matt get drunk together, the situation somehow gets even more out of hand than it did the first time. By the time the 'bad idea' alarms are flashing in his head, he's already numbed it with three shots, a toast to a case well won. Uninhibited arousal takes over his system, and it becomes difficult to keep his hands off of Foggy. Karen is giggling and snapping pictures of the two of them with her phone. When Matt starts deeply inhaling the scent in the hollow of Foggy's throat, Karen finally says in a very amused tone, 'Oh my god you guys! Get a room!'  
  
So they do. They make out sloppily in the backseat the whole cab ride home. When they get to Matt's apartment building, Matt pushes Foggy up against a brick wall in a side alley. He sucks a hickey into Foggy's neck, full of desire. Foggy lets out a high pitched whine, and threads his fingers in Matt's hair.  
  
"Jesus, Matt," he says, breathless. "I'm so. . .this is great but I don't want to cum in an alley."  
  
"We can scale up the wall of my building if you want," says Matt in a deep, hungry voice. "I do it all the time. It's faster."  
  
"That's great, Matt. But some of us aren't crazy devil-themed vigilantes. Maybe the door? A few extra seconds won't hurt."  
  
The truth is, Matt's terrified that any moment he will become less drunk and this will turn from a dream come true to horrifically awful any second. So, reluctantly, he drags Foggy by the hand into the building, up the stairs, and into the bedroom of his apartment. Foggy sits down on the bed, breathing heavily. Matt stalks over to him until he's standing between his legs. Foggy is hard and it's tenting his jeans.  
  
"What are you thinking about, buddy?" asks Foggy, squeezing his hand. "You look far away."  
  
Matt leans down and kisses him, hand spanning Foggy's entire face.  
  
"I'm right here," he whispers into his mouth. With one hand, he pushes Foggy down onto his back on the bed. Foggy scoots back so he's entirely on the bed. Matt shucks off his shoes, and straddles Foggy who is fiddling with his pants button. He grabs Foggy's wrist and kisses it's underside. Foggy's entire body shudders. With his other hand, he turns his attentions to Matt's own insistent bulge.  
  
And Matt lets him.  
  
Foggy strokes him gently outside his jeans and then harder and harder. Matt tips his head back and loses himself, choked breaths interspersed with moans. It must have been a long time since he last got off because he cums in his pants right there, not two minutes after Foggy started touching his dick.  
  
"Wow," Foggy says in a breathy voice. Matt can hardly appreciate it. He feels suddenly dizzy, and much like last time the smell of semen is overpowering. His stomach churns and he realizes he's going to throw up. He vaults off the bed, and doesn't make it to the bathroom, puking in his kitchen trash can instead.   
  
Foggy pads out to the common room, and meets him in the kitchen. He puts his hand on the small of Matt's back as Matt rinses out his mouth in the sink.  
  
"Must have drank too much," says Matt. It's not entirely a lie. "Sorry Foggy."  
  
"It's alright," says Foggy. He rubs his back in gentle circles. "Next time I try to deflower you, we'll be sober."


End file.
